The backyard looks like something out of a dream—string lights hanging low between the trees, tables dressed up but not too fancy, candles flickering even though the sun’s barely dipped. There are balloons everywhere—white and gold ones that say He asked… She said yes!—because apparently subtlety isn’t in our vocabulary.

You’re over by the table with my mum and Gemma, laughing about something, and for a second, I just stop. Just watch. You’ve got that kind of light around you that doesn’t come from the bulbs or the candles or any of that. It’s just you.

“Mate,” Niall says, bumping my shoulder with his drink, “you’re starin’ again.” I grin, not even denying it. “Can you blame me?”

He laughs and wanders off toward the food, probably to see if the buffet’s open yet. I look around the garden—everyone’s here. The lads, my family, yours. It’s the weirdest mix of worlds, but it works. Louis and Zayn are already taking the piss out of Liam about his playlist choices, and my stepdad Robin’s talking to your dad like they’ve known each other for years. It’s good. It’s all good.

When I think about how long we’ve been together—three years now—it’s mad how normal it feels. Like I blinked and suddenly you’re home. You were there when the tour got too long, when I was half a world away and couldn’t sleep, when I started doubting myself. Always steady. Always kind.

Someone taps a glass, and I realise it’s me. Not sure when I decided to do that, but everyone’s turning, smiling, waiting. My heart’s doing that stupid fast thing in my chest. I shove my hands into my pockets, trying to play it cool. “Right,” I start, and the lads are already grinning, like they know I’m about to wing it. “Uh, thank you, everyone, for comin’. Means a lot, really. We didn’t wanna do anything too big, just somethin’ nice with the people who actually matter.”

Mum gives me that soft proud look, and it nearly gets me. I clear my throat, glancing at you again, standing next to Gemma now. You’ve got that smile that makes everything else fade. “Feels a bit weird, y’know,” I go on, “standin’ up here talkin’ when all I really wanna do is eat. But I just wanted to say thanks. To all of you. For being part of our lives. For stickin’ around when it’s mad. And for making tonight feel like… us. Not too proper, not too crazy. Just… right.”

The boys cheer quietly at that, and Louis yells something about me bein’ sentimental already. I flip him off, everyone laughs, and it loosens the knot in my chest. Then I look back at you, and everything else sort of blurs out. “And you,” I say, voice going softer without me meaning to. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, love. You make all of this”—I gesture vaguely, meaning the band, the noise, the chaos—“make sense. You’ve seen me at my worst and still looked at me like I’m worth somethin’. I don’t know how you do it, but I’m bloody grateful you do.”

A pause, quiet enough that I can hear the fairy lights buzzing. “Can’t promise I’ll ever stop leaving socks on the floor or singin’ in the shower too loud,” I add, a grin tugging at my mouth, “but I can promise I’ll spend the rest of my life tryin’ to make you as happy as you’ve made me.”

There’s a collective “aww” from somewhere behind me, probably Anne again. The lads start clapping, someone whistles, and you’re laughing now, cheeks pink from the attention. I raise my glass toward you, the lights catching on the ring on your finger.

“To us,” I say. “And to everyone who’s part of this mad little world we’ve built.”